


Unchained

by Frostpebble



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi redemption arc, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Enemies to Lovers, Fix-It of Sorts, Glove Kink, M/M, Mementos sex, berserk!Akira, bonus Bad End
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 15:13:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11785806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frostpebble/pseuds/Frostpebble
Summary: Akechi has a different plan to catch the Phantom Thieves- rather than kill their leader, he'll induce a psychotic breakdown and watch him ruin them himself. With inhibitions removed, Akira pursues his true desire, and it's not what Akechi was prepared for.To fix his mistakes, Akechi will have to confront not only himself and the Phantom Thieves, but higher powers as well. Who will prove to be the most difficult opponent?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never thought I'd actually post something here, but this concept has been bouncing around in my head for so long, I finally gave in and wrote it myself. It's not as explicit as my original idea since I don't feel confident in my ability to write that, so I made up for it with extra angst. Hope you like, comments are super appreciated!
> 
> There's an alternative bad end in the end notes; I think I actually prefer it, but I wanted to leave the "canon" ending more open in case I ever decide to continue it.

_There are fates worse than death,_ mused Akechi over his usual cup of coffee at Leblanc.

After Okumura’s “untimely” demise, the downfall of the Phantom Thieves was in full swing. All had gone swimmingly, as Shido had planned, and only the final course remained to be served- the head of the Phantom Thieves’ leader on a silver platter.

That had been the original plan, at least, but Akechi wasn’t without ideas of his own. True, it would bring him great pleasure to pull the trigger and watch the life fade from those smug grey eyes, to be rid of that unbearable smile once and for all; God knows he had imagined it often enough. But Joker had become something of a rival to him, and it just wouldn’t do for him to meet his end in the same manner as the common criminals Akechi was usually sent after.

No no, what he had in mind would be far more satisfying: watching the Phantom Thieves unravel at the hands of their own foolish leader. Though he had since been reduced to a common (albeit supernatural) assassin, Akechi’s original talent lay in inducing psychotic breakdowns- breaking the chains on a target’s heart, causing them to run amok with unrestrained desires, usually to disastrous effect. He didn’t care exactly what happened, really, and it was impossible to fully predict anyway. But in such a state Joker would be bound to slip up somewhere, or go overboard completely; in the best-case scenario, he might actually kill someone! All that matters to Shido is once piece of incriminating evidence. And all that matters to Akechi is to watch Akira fall- to witness his descent into despair after letting down the friends he holds oh-so-dear. To bear the burden of knowing that he’s the reason the ones he loves will rot in jail; that was the sentence he deserved.

_And no one would prevent me from disposing of him at a later date, I suppose,_ pondered the detective as he took another sip.

Behind the counter, Akira finished up drying the dishes and turned his attention to his customer. He leaned casually against the counter and flashed Akechi a playful smile. “We still on for tomorrow~?” inquired the barista in a flirtatious tone.

Akechi groaned internally. _Did he always have to say it like THAT?_ But he plastered on his best charming-detective-prince smile and responded “Of course. Behind you all the way, leader.”

Akira’s grin got even brighter. “Great! I’m counting on you, you know.” He responded with such sincerity it made Akechi feel ill. Something about his presence made it hard to maintain that carefully-crafted façade, so rather than respond with words, Akechi gave another short smile and nod and quickly raised his coffee cup to his lips to finish his drink.

_Sparing his life is simply the logical thing to do,_ he reminded himself, setting the empty cup back onto its saucer with a clink.

* * *

It had been a long and tiring day in Mementos. Joker had a habit of collecting a lengthy list of requests before attempting to complete them all in one evening; some sort of time-management obsession that no one else in the team fully understood. But they dutifully followed his lead, and after a few hours the ragged group found themselves collapsing into the seats of one of the coveted Shadow-free subway stations.

With a stretch and a sigh, Joker turned to Oracle. “So, what’s the status…?” he asked wearily.

Oracle closed her eyes briefly to concentrate before answering. “One target remaining, directly below us. It’s totally underleveled compared to us, but…” She glanced around at the tired faces of her teammates.

Crow saw his opportunity and jumped on it. “It would be a shame to turn back when we’re so close to our goal. I think I have one good fight left in me, with some reliable backup at least.” He turned to Joker and flashed him the most convincing smile he could manage. “What do you say?”

Their leader looked briefly surprised, before his face also settled into a smile. “Yeah, I think we’ve got this. The rest of you head home and get some rest; I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard in the first place.”

Queen discretely looked to Crow and then to Joker and gave him a concerned glance. He shook his head slightly as a reassuring signal and rose to his feet.

“Well then, let’s get going!” He lightly grabbed Crow’s shoulder and the latter jumped a bit at the sudden contact.

He quickly regained his composure and stood up in response. “Yes, let’s,” he said with a smile, and the two of them proceeded into the darkness below.

* * *

“Looks like we’re doing this one the hard way, as usual,” remarked Joker as the man in front of him was engulfed in shadow that morphed into the shape of some unremarkable fiend. He shot Crow a glance; he responded with a curt nod.

Crow ripped the pointed mask from his face; as it dissolved into blue flame, the shimmering silhouette of Robin Hood appeared at his side. He extended his hand towards the enemy with a dramatic flair. “Kougaon!”

The Shadow was obliterated instantly, but as Joker turned to congratulate his teammate, he was hit by a second identical blinding light. Caught off guard and exposed to his weakness, the leader of the Phantom Thieves fell to his knees, crippled and confused. On top of the injuries he had already sustained that evening, simply breathing now seemed to be an issue; the thought of him returning to his feet was unfathomable.

Crow turned to regard Joker, looking slightly displeased. “Is that really all it takes? True, you were already weakened, but even then, I expected a bit more of a fight.” Joker glared up at his assailant, rage burning behind his mask, teeth clenched but unable to get out a word in response.

Convinced that he wouldn’t face resistance, Crow took slow, deliberate steps towards the man on his knees before him. As he walked, his princely white attire was consumed by a growing black flame, and a striped bodysuit complete with a tattered cape and menacing, pointed helmet was left in its wake.

Joker’s eyes widened with understanding. “You…” he gasped between breaths, “the Black Mask…”

“That’s right,” Crow responded with a smile, “though that doesn’t matter right now. What matters…” He continued to advance, until he stood directly in front of Joker. “…is that I have the leader of the Phantom Thieves before me, completely powerless.” He removed his helmet and set it on the ground. “Wouldn’t do to have that thing obscuring such a marvelous sight,” he remarked, as if anyone had requested an explanation.

Joker’s mask had since fallen from his face and he looked up at Akechi with pleading eyes, more hurt than afraid. “Akechi…don’t…” he stuttered.

“Don’t what? Don’t kill you?” the other man replied with a scoff. “As much as I would like to see you beg for your life, I have something much more fun in mind.” He steadied himself, and raised one clawed hand to his face, although he had no mask to remove. “Come now! Loki!”

A form Akira had never seen shimmered into existence behind Akechi; it was all black and white and swirling and he wasn’t sure if it was only the pain shooting through his head that prevented him from getting a good look at it. Without waiting for further command, it raised its golden sword, as if calling forth some sort of energy, before swinging it directly towards Akira. Pitch-black flames erupted beneath his body, consuming him in a frigid heat and burning every conscious thought from his mind.

The chamber echoed with Akira’s screams and Akechi’s laughter. Finally, the former grew silent and his form slumped completely to the ground. Akechi examined him cautiously; he was still breathing. He had never used this power on a physical person before, only their Shadows, but it seemed to have worked all the same. He turned to go but stopped; because this was the real Akira, he would need to bring him safely out of Mementos somehow…

“Akechi.” A flat but steady voice interrupted his train of thought. He turned to see Akira rising to his feet with far more ease than someone in his condition should be able to. _Shit,_ he thought to himself, _the spell does generally grant Shadows increased physical capabilities; if that took effect now without altering his mental state…_ Akechi’s mind raced with possible explanations and escape plans as Akira approached him.

“Finally, it’s just the two of us. No one else to see what happens.” 

Was that a threat? The calm in his voice was unnerving. Akechi scanned the other’s face; the trademark smirk was present, but his eyes gleamed with something Akechi couldn’t quite place. Akira stepped closer. Akechi retreated, until his back was quite literally against a wall. With so little distance between them, Akechi was forced to look into Akira’s eyes again and trembled- the grey irises burned red around the edges with a wild intensity.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”

Akira grabbed Akechi’s wrist and pinned him against the wall with unnatural strength. Akechi braced himself for the inevitable cold steel of Joker’s dagger in his chest, and then-  
Akira was kissing him, passionately, biting at his lip as his free hand wandered down his side and grasped his hip. For once in his life Akechi was rendered thoughtless; instinct took over as he leaned into the kiss, bit back in response, pulled the thief closer to him-

-until a sudden moment of clarity snapped him back to reality. “What are you DOING?!” he hissed, pushing the other man away, unclear if he was addressing Akira or himself in that moment.

“What am I doing?” Akira laughed to himself, which was a sound not uncommon to Akechi, but this time laced with a touch of mania that made his hair stand on end. “What I should have done a long time ago.” He closed the distance between them again and looked Akechi dead in the eyes, gaze unwavering. “I was gifted with power, and I’m going to use it…” He leaned in, lips brushing Akechi’s ear, breath dangerously hot. “…to take what I want.”

A chill ran down Akechi’s spine. Akira’s intentions were crystal clear, and he found himself wishing he’d simply been stabbed instead. It wasn’t that the spell had backfired; his target was clearly under Loki’s influence, but the desire it had caused him to pursue…no, Akechi wouldn’t grant something so preposterous any further thought.  
  
After a moment of shocked silence, Akechi stammered out a response. “A-And what if I won’t let you?”

The other man pulled away and made a show of looking hurt, crossing his arms and frowning. “Well, if you truly refuse, I suppose there’s nothing I can do. I may be a thief, but first and foremost I’m a gentleman. But…I don’t expect it to be an issue.” He stepped closer again and raised a gloved hand to Akechi’s chin, turning his head until their eyes met. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, as much as you try to hide it.”

Akechi hadn’t the slightest idea what he was talking about and yet he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. He willed himself to pull away again but felt locked in place; his body frozen aside from his eyes, which darted around the features of Akira’s face before resting on his lips…

Akira didn’t wait for an answer, leaning in to steal another kiss; Akechi felt the thief’s smirk brush against his lips. “That doesn’t sound like a no,” he breathed, voice smug and dripping with intent.

In a flash he slid his hand around to the back of Akechi’s head and grasped his hair between his fingers, then tugged down with enough force to cause the other to let out a small yelp. Akechi’s exposed neck became his next target; he trailed a few kisses down his jawline before lingering longer on his throat, sucking a little harder and culminating with a quick bite. The feeling of teeth on skin made Akechi’s breath catch in his throat, and he involuntarily reached out to steady himself, wrapping his arms around the other man’s back.

Akira broke off the kiss and drew back, but before Akechi had a moment to blink he was being pulled away from the wall too, Akira’s hand on his head guiding their lips together once again. His tongue pressed hungrily against Akechi’s mouth and he lowered his guard and let him in, caught up in the heat of the moment. Akechi’s fingers ran up Akira’s neck and entangled themselves in his curls as their embrace only deepened.

When Akira finally released him Akechi was gasping for breath, cheeks growing red. A wave of heat and a feeling he couldn’t describe shook through his body. He opened his mouth to speak, but Akira raised a single gloved finger to his lips to silence him.

“Don’t try to deny this with words when your body reveals everything.”

Ah. The growing bulge in Akechi’s pants obviously hadn’t gone unnoticed at such close proximity. _J-Just a physical response to external stimuli,_ he attempted to reason with himself, though the escalating buzz in his head made it difficult.

Knowing it was up to him to take the lead, Akira pulled Akechi back into another kiss, a bit calmer this time but filled with just as much passion. Red gloves wandered down Akechi’s back and to his ass, where they grasped and yanked him closer until their bodies were grinding against each other. Akechi let out a restrained groan and turned his gaze downward, trying to hide his increasingly flushed cheeks.

The sight only stoked Akira’s flame further. He deftly slid his hand forward; just the brush of fingers over his erection made Akechi whimper, and when Akira grabbed lightly he couldn’t contain the moan that had been building behind his lips. A wicked grin grew across Akira’s face as he reveled in the sound.

“This outfit of yours is a bit impractical, don’t you think~?” he teased while tugging a little harder. Akechi seemed to have given up on words at this point, responding only by clinging harder to the other man in an attempt to stay upright.

With a chuckle Akira reached to his belt and pulled out his dagger with a mandatory twirl. Swiftly but carefully the silver blade sliced through the striped fabric of Akechi’s bodysuit, making the space Akira needed to maneuver. A split second later the trusty tool was back in its place and Akira returned his full attention to Akechi, who was still shivering after the close contact.

Akira placed a hand on Akechi’s shoulder and pushed him back to the wall; Akechi welcomed the support. He leaned his head back and Akira took his bare neck as an invitation, starting at the base this time and kissing his way up the side before nipping at his ear. Akechi jumped a bit and Akira used the distraction to slip his hand under the fabric of the other’s suit, gently wrapping his gloved fingers around Akechi’s cock.

Just the simple touch made Akechi moan and throw more of his weight onto the wall; he was more desperate than either of them would have predicted. Akira’s strokes started slow, but as Akechi’s breath quickened and his moans grew stronger Akira couldn’t contain himself, quickening his pace to match. He wasn’t going to last for long.

Weak in the knees, Akechi slouched against the wall and Akira hovered over him, taking in every detail of the needy eyes that gazed up at him. Akira could tell he was close, and with his free hand he forcefully lifted Akechi’s jaw to make their lips meet again, biting with an intensity that matched his insatiable hunger. In that moment Akechi was overwhelmed, digging his fingers into Akira’s back and letting out a final moan as a red glove became stained with white.

Akira raised his hand to his mouth and purposefully sucked each of his fingers clean, savoring the taste of his accomplishment, before pulling the soiled glove off with his teeth and tossing it to the ground. He leaned back in to Akechi, who was slowly returning his breathing to a normal pace but still shaking slightly. He brushed a hand through Akechi’s hair, leaving his now-bare fingers to rest on his cheek, and lightly touching their foreheads together.

“You’re beautiful like this, you know,” Akira whispered with a gentleness unbefitting of the situation, and Akechi felt his heart clench in his chest as their eyes met.

“Goro, I lo- “

The sound of his given name caused something to snap inside of Akechi and the haze that had been clouding his mind dissipated. He wasn’t going to allow Akira to finish that sentence. He couldn’t allow himself to hear it. Not when there was no means of denying the truth behind it; not when there was no way to fit it into his truth that he had so carefully crafted.  
  
This ended now. It had already gone on for far too long.

Akechi ripped himself away from the unwanted contact and lunged forward, clawed fingers closing around the thief’s throat. “Don’t push your limits,” he growled, features distorting as whatever emotion he had been experiencing was replaced by animosity. “I could still kill you, here and now. I should have in the first place.” His grip tightened, talons digging into the skin.

To his horror, Akira didn’t resist, only smiled sadly. “…if that would make you happy,” he breathed out weakly.

Akechi howled with rage and threw Akira’s body to the ground. What a despicable creature, what a pitiable excuse for a man that he had been senseless enough to consider his rival, his equal. If THIS was his heart’s desire, the ambition he would give his very life for, he was truly a fool.

He kicked the weakened man in the shoulder so that he fell completely to the ground, collapsing on his back.

“A life as worthless as yours doesn’t even deserve to be snuffed out.” He spit the words in Akira’s direction, every syllable radiating contempt. Their gaze met one last time, but despite the verbal and physical assault, those grey eyes revealed no discernable emotion, only remaining fixed on Akechi with their red-rimmed stare. Dissatisfied, but having nothing left to say, he retrieved his helmet from where he had left it and made his way towards the door. The countless thoughts running through his head had been drowned out by his rage; now it too had grown cold and there remained only an incessant ringing within his skull.

A shuffling sound and a rustling of fabric as Akira sat himself up and procured a small item from his pocket. “Hey, Akechi?” he called out to the retreating figure. Surprisingly, he turned around, though it seemed more like a preprogrammed response than a conscious decision.

Satisfied that he had his attention, the thief rested his chin on one hand while twirling the object in the other. That trademark smirk spread across his bruised and bloodied face.  
  
“I’m looking forward to our next date~” He punctuated the sentence with a wink.

Akechi inhaled with rage but the scream that followed was heard only by the darkness of Mementos; the trickster had already vanished into the cloud of smoke left by the Goho-M.

Suddenly left alone with his thoughts, Akechi quickly decided that was the last place on earth he wanted to be. He followed Joker’s lead, escaping the room and hopefully the memories of what had transpired within it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (alternate bad end, continued from the choking scene)
> 
> To his horror, Akira didn’t resist, only smiled sadly. “…if that would make you happy,” he breathed out weakly.
> 
> Their eyes met and Akechi saw _pity_ and that was the last straw, the last insulting utterance that would ever leak from Akira’s lips, he would make sure of it.
> 
> With ice in his veins and conviction in his grip, he closed in with both hands around the offender’s throat. Even that persistent smile eventually succumbed to panic in the face of the inevitable. His rival was nothing special after all.
> 
> And as his fantasy came to fruition, as he watched the spark fade from Akira’s eyes and his limp body fall to the floor, he came to a troubling realization.
> 
> He didn’t feel happy at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, I'm back! It took a while, but there was enough interest that I decided to continue this. Big thanks to everyone who left comments or kudos!
> 
> I think I finally know the general direction I'd like this to take, so hopefully the remaining chapters won't take so long. I've tentatively set it to 5 chapters but that's just an estimate.
> 
> Feel free to chat me up on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Frostpebble) with any comments or thoughts on P5 in general!

To the surprise of no one, a change of scenery didn’t equate to a change in state of mind. Akechi lost track of how many hours he had stared a hole into the ceiling, as if the featureless tiles held the answers he sook.

It was Akira’s heart that had become unfettered, and yet Akechi felt as if the chains that bound the undesirable corners of his mind were cracking as well. He wasn’t afforded a moment’s peace, constantly needing to push down some unreasonable feeling or preposterous “what if.”

Tiresome, but it would pass. He had perfected the art of suppressing emotions. They were easily trumped by logic, which he had in excess. You just needed a goal, a plan, and the thought of success to keep your mind clear and on track.

His plan had been shattered, but picking up the pieces would keep him occupied. The events of the evening had turned Joker into a real wildcard; even his numerous previous experiences with Loki’s victims didn’t give him much to go on. So he worked his way through every possibility, every action and reaction, until a tree of parallel futures spread out in his mind. Surprisingly, they all led to one common truth:

Akira Kurusu had to die.

He rolled the thought around in his mind, played with the possibilities, as he had so many times before when he knew it was confined to the realm of fantasy. But that limitation was gone! And he had already come so close today…

He brought the scene back into his mind and played it out to its conclusion, in a reality where he didn’t hesitate, where he wasn’t such a fool. And as the curtain closed, as he watched the spark fade from Akira’s eyes and his limp body fall to the floor, he came to a troubling realization.

He didn’t feel happy at all.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes and bid sleep to come, hoping to erase the unsatisfactory chain of thoughts and the unidentifiable ache in his chest.

* * *

 

He awoke to the buzz of his cell phone on the table beside him. “One new message from Akira Kurusu” blinked the screen, setting a record for the quickest he’d ever been dragged out of a sleepy haze and back into the reality he’d been desperately trying to avoid. Fearful but curious, he opened the text:

“Coffee? ;) “

He huffed and laid the phone down; how anti-climactic. It wasn’t unusual for the barista-in-training to invite him over on an uneventful Sunday morning, though the teasing emoticon was a new addition. He usually accepted; unlike the other restaurants he visited and made a show of gushing over, he genuinely found the quiet atmosphere of the small café pleasant.

But today? He wasn’t sure how to interpret it. It would be too much to hope that the effects of Loki’s spell had already worn off, wouldn’t it? He had been expecting _something_ out of the ordinary, but the group chat was also quiet, no one inquiring about Akira’s behavior or whereabouts.

Even as a detective, there was only so much he could analyze out of a one-word text message. Risky as it was, he needed to observe Akira in person to make a proper assessment.

“Of course. I’ll be on my way shortly,” he replied.

He made himself presentable; no amount of inner turmoil would get in the way of that fine-tuned skill. As he picked up his briefcase to head out the door, the weight of the gun concealed inside brought back the heaviness in his chest, as he was reminded that whatever happened today couldn’t change what ultimately had to be done.

* * *

 

The air was crisp and remnants of morning fog still lay on the streets of Yongen-Jaya. Though the day was young, the weather already seemed far from inviting, so the lack of visitors in Leblanc as Akechi entered didn’t surprise him. It seemed Sojiro was also absent, out running errands probably.

Akira stood in his usual spot behind the counter, polishing the dishes. At the sound of the opening door he turned to Akechi with a smile. “Ah, there’s my favorite customer!”

The cheerfulness and normalcy was disquieting. Akechi approached his usual seat cautiously, never taking his eyes off Akira, but the boy remained infuriatingly unreadable. Curiously, he didn’t seem to have a coffee prepared, and rather than brew one he sauntered to the door, flipping the sign to “closed.”

“Sorry to disappoint if you were actually in the mood for coffee,” he said in response to Akechi’s quizzical look, “but I thought we could do something different today.”

Slinking like a cat, he moved behind the chair Akechi was sitting in and leaned down to his ear while casually draping his arms around the detective’s shoulders.

“It IS our second date, isn’t it?” he purred, with a smooth and deep voice that belonged distinctly to Joker.

Akechi felt a shiver run through him and goosebumps rise on his neck, from the touch and the sound and the confirmation that the events of the night before had certainly not been forgotten.

Akira planted a long kiss on Akechi’s neck before pulling away gracefully, his hand sliding to Akechi’s wrist and guiding him up to his feet. Akechi had been prepared for anything today, or so he told himself, and this was no exception. But somehow, Akira’s actual touch shook him in a way that made it hard to keep plans and preparations in mind.

And then a novel thought occurred to him: for once in his life, it was okay to not have a plan. He’d already fucked up enough that he had nothing left to lose. Feeling oddly lighthearted at this depressing reality, he made no attempt to resist as Akira lead him up the creaking stairs at the back of the café.

Upon reaching the top Akechi took a look at his surroundings: a TV and game console from another era, a couch that looked as if it had been rescued from a dumpster, a school jacket hung sloppily on a chair that belonged to a desk covered in what seemed to be computer parts. Memorabilia from every possible corner of Tokyo was strung throughout the room, plastering the walls and occupying the shelves. All in all, a stark contrast to the pristine but lifeless furnishings of Akechi’s own residence. Objectively, anything resembling a coherent “style” was absent, but the cozy attic room had a distinct, Akira-like charm, he had to admit.

Akira, impatient, had since moved to the bed, lounging with crossed legs. “I didn’t bring you up here to enjoy the scenery, you know,” he teased, nodding his head towards the empty space next to him in a silent invitation.

Akechi scoffed, but still stepped towards him, standing at the edge of the bed with his arms crossed. “And what makes you think I’m here to do what _you_ want to do?” he replied with a glare, though both his gaze and his voice had lost a bit of their edge, something that Akira didn’t fail to notice.

Akira responded with an overdramatic shrug. “Well, you accepted my invitation and you followed me up here, so I’m two-for-two. And even if I’m wrong…” He suddenly yanked on Akechi’s tie, pulling him close enough that their noses almost touched. “…I’m not sure there’s anything you can do about it.”

The detective’s breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t break eye contact. Gray irises caught the light and flashed red, like a predator in the dark. But Akechi had had enough of being hunted.

Taking the role of the hunter instead, he grabbed ahold of Akira’s shoulders and pushed him on to his back, pinning him to the bed. “Don’t get so cocky,” he said with a twisted smile, clearly enjoying the look of surprise on the other’s face. Akechi was stronger than his thin frame let on, and he wasn’t about to be humiliated like in their last encounter. He was determined to come out on top, even if that had suddenly taken on a very literal meaning.

Akira’s initial shock melted into a smirk; this was exceeding his expectations already. “Do your worst,” he taunted, flashing his teeth.

Akechi had no idea what his worst was, but he was eager to find out. This was a chance to regain control and he was going to take it, in whatever form it might present itself. The sight of his rival below him made his blood run hot, and the fire in his veins pushed him down, on top of Akira, their lips meeting forcefully before his brain had a chance to object.

His taste was intoxicating, and each brush of their tongues weakened the already-collapsing wall of justifications that Akechi had been building up ever since he met Akira. _I just needed to get close to him for my mission._ His fingers wandered to Akira’s head and entwined themselves in the black curls. _Sparing his life was the best way to make him suffer._ He bit at his lower lip and smiled at the way Akira jerked beneath him. _I’m just here to observe his mental state._ He pushed his tongue in deeper, pulled Akira closer, until the need for air made him break the embrace.

He pulled back, panting slightly, and looked at Akira with wide eyes as he tried to process what was happening. Akira smiled, with a mix of smug satisfaction and genuine affection. Akechi looked into his eyes and felt locked into place, unable to avert his gaze.

_He's incredible._

It wasn’t the first time the thought had entered Akechi’s mind, but it was the first time it was allowed to roam unrestrained, without immediately being banished to the corner where unacceptable ideas were locked away. He thought he was incredible on the day they first met at the TV station, when he openly challenged Akechi’s opinion without hesitation. He thought it was incredible, how people of all sorts were drawn to him and revealed their innermost secrets. And God, did he think it was incredible when he donned his mask as Joker and raced through Palace halls with poise and confidence, striking down shadows with style.

“If that’s the best you’ve got, I’m disappointed,” interrupted Akira after taking a moment to enjoy the bewildered expression on Akechi’s face.

The teasing voice pulled him out of his daydream and back to the reality he had a newfound appreciation for. Right, it wasn’t the time to get lost in thought. He had accepted a challenge and he wasn’t going to back down now.

He leaned back in close to Akira and brushed a still-gloved thumb across his lips. “Don’t bite off more than you chew. We’re just getting started,” he promised.

He sat up again briefly to remove his jacket and drape it across the chair; it was getting rather hot. Akira never took his eyes off of him, gazing up with curiosity and expectation.

Akechi resumed his position straddling Akira. “Why don’t we start by shutting up that naughty mouth of yours, hm?” He slid a hand over Akira’s chest and up to his neck, wrapping his fingers around and squeezing lightly. Akira smiled devilishly and leaned into his touch. So he WAS into that, the sick fuck. He increased the pressure and brought their lips together again, this time with intention. Akira grasped him tightly as Akechi bit at his lip, only letting him catch his breath after feeling the fingers digging into his back.

Akira at his mercy was a sight to behold: flushed cheeks and disheveled hair that couldn’t cover the hunger in his eyes; an image better than anything out of Akechi’s fantasies. He removed his gloves and began undoing the buttons of Akira’s shirt, admiring the unsteady rise and fall of his chest. He brushed a finger over an exposed nipple and Akira twitched; he pushed a knee between Akira’s legs and he let out a small moan. Oh, how Akechi was enjoying this.

He returned to kissing the black-haired boy, this time slower and more passionately, while dragging his fingernails along Akira’s side. When their lips parted he continued south, kissing down his neck, over his collarbones, across his chest. Now that he had started, Akechi was determined to taste every inch of him, and watching Akira’s reactions only motivated him more.

And Akira was certainly reacting; the growing pressure in his pants wasn’t easy to ignore. Akechi deftly unzipped his jeans, pulling them down to the ankle and revealing simple red boxers underneath. He traced along the bulge within and admired the tiny sounds Akira made at the contact. Feeling a little more aggressive, he pulled Akira up to meet him in a sitting position, and with his other hand grabbed at his crotch with more force, causing Akira to let out a gasp. “Well? Satisfying?” he inquired, nose-to-nose with his adversary.

Truthfully, Akira had experienced worse (and by worse he meant kinkier), but he wasn’t about to ruin Akechi’s high. Besides, simply the fact that it was _Akechi_ here with him blew everything else out of the water. “You’re perfect, Goro,” he answered, stroking his cheek and kissing him lightly.

The praise and the intimacy made Akechi’s heart stop for a moment, and the rage caused by similar words from the night before was absent. Maybe it was just the fact that he was in the attic of Leblanc and not the otherwordly depths of Mementos, or maybe it was due to the strange clarity of mind he was currently experiencing, but the words struck him as distinctly _real_ in a way he didn’t know how to respond to.

“You’re…not too bad yourself, Akira.” The name tasted strange on his tongue, but not in a bad way. He ran his fingers through soft black curls and returned the kiss.

Akira fumbled blindly at the buttons of Akechi’s shirt, not wanting to interrupt their embrace. He slid the loosened fabric down his arms, exposing his shoulders, and decided that would be a good place to start. The detective’s attempted show of dominance had only fed his unending hunger further, and now it would be his turn to feast.

Akira grabbed Akechi on the back of the head and pulled his neck close, biting and sucking in a way that was sure to leave a mark. He winced and grasped at Akira’s hair tighter, and then, to his surprise, yanked him back and away until they could see each other’s faces.

“Not so fast, now. I didn’t say I was done with you, did I?”

Oooh, now THAT sent a shiver of excitement down Akira’s spine. Maybe there really was more to this pleasant boy than he let on. He smirked a silent taunt and Akechi threw him back onto the bed in response.

With one hand on Akira’s neck and the other sliding down his pants, Akechi got to work. Either he was experienced or he was a natural, Akira thought distantly, whenever he managed to complete a thought between waves of pleasure. And the fingers of his would-be murderer around his throat gave him a rush incomparable to any of his danger-seeking Metaverse exploits.

It didn’t take long for Akechi’s nimble fingers to achieve their goal, and he released his grip as Akira climaxed. Spent and out of breath, he needed a minute to come back to his senses, and Akechi took that moment to admire his handiwork. Akira truly looked marvelous, and now that he wasn’t occupied with completing his task, Akechi was becoming increasingly aware of the need building between his own legs.

Akira didn’t need any instructions; as soon as his strength had returned, he resumed his conquest of Akechi’s body, this time without interruption. Contrary to the night before, Akechi allowed himself to become immersed in the contact, savoring every touch and smell. Akira was far from gentle but he embraced the pain; it cleared his mind in a way he had never achieved on his own. He clung to Akira and leaned in to his movements before he finally came with a gasp.  He fell back to the bed, head buzzing, hearing only the sound of their ragged breathing side by side.

Akira broke the silence between them. “What do you say we make these little dates a habit?” he asked, smiling mischievously in Akechi’s direction.

The sparkle in his eyes was charming and Akechi felt his heart flutter, and then sink like a stone. As the adrenaline in his system wore off, the reality of what he was doing, and who he was doing it with, began to set in. A pained expression crossed his face. “We…can’t,” he replied curtly, avoiding eye contact.

Akira frowned briefly but tried not to break his cheerful demeanor. “Why not? You can’t tell me you didn’t like it, not even you can be so far in denial.” His words were teasing but hinted with concern.

Akechi sighed. What was he supposed to say? Being so close to each other, those gray eyes would see right through any deceit he attempted, and quite frankly he was out of excuses anyway. Should he… actually tell him the truth? It wasn’t really a question of trust, but more of damage control. He was already too far into uncharted territory to save himself with a deeper web of lies. He came to the bittersweet revelation that there would be no harm in it; dead men tell no tales, after all.

“It’s Shido,” he said simply, giving Akira a chance to respond and himself a chance to gather his thoughts.

“Shido? The skeevy politician we’ve been looking into?” His brows furrowed together. “Sure, he’s bad news, but what does he have to do with any of this?”

“He wants the Phantom Thieves eliminated, and it’s my job to do it.” Akira’s eyes grew wide. “Tipping you off to his ‘suspicious behavior?’ Helping you figure out his keywords? All just luring you closer, so he could make the most out of your downfall.” He spoke matter-of-factly, without betraying any emotion.

Akira was visibly hurt; his trust in the good-heartedness of others had done him no favors this time. “But _why_?” he inquired urgently, “Why pledge your loyalty to someone like him?”

Akechi’s skin bristled at the false interpretation. “It’s NOT loyalty,” he snapped, the emotionless mask broken. “It’s necessity. I have…something to settle with him, that requires my proximity and his trust.” He struggled to regain his composure.

Akira seemed unconvinced. “Something so important, that you’d let it get in the way of this?”

Akechi averted his eyes and avoided the question. “If I don’t produce results, he’ll have my head. Useless pawns have no place by him. You saw what happened to principal Kobayakawa.”

The silence was deafening. They gazed into each other’s’ eyes, both of their hearts laid open, but neither sure what to do with the revelations.

Finally, Akira spoke. “Then I’ll just have to take care of him before that happens.”

Something in his voice had shifted, and it put Akechi on edge. Without elaborating further, he rose from the bed and began getting dressed mechanically, the intimate moment they had been sharing seemingly forgotten.

The sudden change left Akechi dumbfounded for a moment. “What do you mean, _take care of?_ ” he pressed. There was only one interpretation he could think of, and he didn’t like it. Akira pocketed a few of the infiltration tools sitting on his desk, confirming Akechi’s fears. His voice grew more hectic. “What, you’re just going to march in there? Now? _Alone_? Are you mad?!”

When Akira didn’t respond he reached out and grabbed his shoulder, forcibly turning the black-haired boy around to face him.

He was met with those steel-gray eyes, burning red at the edges with an unnatural determination, and he knew. Mad is exactly what he was, and it was his fault. Akira had seemed relatively normal as long as things were going his way, but now he had been presented with an obstacle and was going to eliminate it, logic and safety be damned. Akechi’s mind scrambled for a solution but found none, landing in the same dead end that had plagued him the night before.

Ever so gently, Akira removed the hand from his shoulder and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles before squeezing it tightly. He looked Akechi straight in the eyes with an intensity that made him shiver.

“I’m not going to let anything get between us.”

With that, he turned and raced down the stairs and through the door, disappearing in the midmorning fog.

Akechi stood alone once again in the attic of the empty Leblanc, and wondered what kind of monster he had unwittingly created.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Akechi, always left naked and confused as Akira runs off, I promise this will be the last instance of that lol.  
> Generally from here on out I think it will be more plot and less porn, but I hope you'll stick around for the ride!
> 
> As you may have noticed, the timeline is deviating from canon here- they never went to Sae's palace, as it wasn't part of Akechi's plan this time around. Instead they've been slowly investigating Shido at Akechi's suggestion, while he gained their trust by helping in standard Mementos missions.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here marks the point where this fic changes from self-indulgent porn to self-indulgent canon-fixing. I hope you still enjoy it equally!
> 
> I'm also gonna shamelessly plug my [Akeshu playlist](https://8tracks.com/frostpebble/love-me-mercilessly) here, cause I listened to it a lot while working on this!

Akechi tried desperately to collect his thoughts, to make sense of everything that had happened since he had naively followed Akira to that small attic room. He cursed whatever whimsy had planted _“_ _It_ _’_ _s okay to not have a plan_ _”_ into his head- just look at the mess THAT had caused. Emotions were a plague that he had successfully avoided all his life; time to forget this lapse in judgement and figure out a real solution.

…If only it were that easy. _You already know there_ _’_ _s only one outcome_ , his brain said, _just let the fool run to his death, that takes care of the problem._  But his heart objected with a ferocity that was impossible to ignore, months of suppressed emotion breaking through their dam and drowning out all sensibility. He closed his eyes and he saw Akira’s gazing back at him, accompanied by that irresistible smile. A smile that was meant for _him_ , the real him, not the one he showed to the cameras. He didn’t understand why, how Akira could look at him like that…but he wanted to. And for that, Akira needed to live.

Akechi may not have had a plan, but he had a goal, and his determination had never let him down before. He gathered his things and his composure and set out after the phantom.

* * *

 

Shido’s palace wasn’t foreign territory to Akechi. He had visited briefly years ago just to confirm its existence, and again more recently with the Phantom Thieves, offering up the keywords in a bid to pledge his allegiance. They hadn’t begun infiltrating yet, instead opting to gather more information on his activities and come to a unanimous decision first. Not much time had passed since then, so when Akechi opened his eyes in the cognitive world, the sight they were met with was a shock.

The ship’s masked passengers flooded the deck, fleeing from whatever had assaulted them inside the building. And was that…smoke rising in the distance? Akira couldn’t have possibly caused so much damage single-handedly in such a short time, could he?

As Akechi darted forward he noticed that he was clad in his white Crow outfit- Shido was clearly already on the defensive if even he was classified as a threat. The thought made him a bit nervous; even though Palace owners in the real world should have no way of knowing what was going on inside, Shido had more knowledge of the cognitive world than their average target, hence why Akechi had never ventured far in before. He would have to tread carefully.

Before he could pass through the columns of the floating Diet building, a voice from behind stopped him. “Crow! Wait! What’s going on?!”

He turned to see Panther running towards him, with all the other Phantom Thieves in tow. _Great. Wonderful. Exactly what I need_ , lamented his brain, though the thought that some backup might not be bad to have also crossed his mind. Still, this complicated things; he had to think on his feet.

He took a deep breath. “It’s Joker. He called me over this morning to discuss new information about Shido, and insisted on heading in immediately…I tried to stop him but he wouldn’t listen. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” He was lying through his teeth, but the panic in his voice was genuine, and that must have been convincing enough to stop further questions for the time being.

“The hell he’s thinkin’?!” exclaimed Skull. “I’ve gotta save his ass so I can beat it myself.”

“I wondered what he was doing,” Mona chimed in. “I saw him rush down the street from out of Oracle’s window. It seemed urgent, so I trailed him while she gathered the others.”

Crow nodded towards the cat. “Thanks for the quick thinking.” He glanced around at the others. “Shall we head in?”

The Phantom Thieves were full of uncertainty and varying levels of suspicion, but there was no way to go but forward.

* * *

 

His plan had been to follow the trail of destruction, but the main hall was so thoroughly trashed that it was hard to infer a direction out of it. The room was void of enemies, and the remnants of blue flames licked across broken furniture and torn curtains.

“What on earth…” Noir tread carefully through the debris, furrowing her brow as she examined the damage. “What kind of enemy did this? Or was it really…”

A bang from the room ahead interrupted her thoughts. “There!” Oracle pointed as her goggles flashed. “That’s him for sure!”

The group bolted towards the source of the sound, which was indeed Joker. They waited near the entrance of the room, watching the unfolding scene play out. A cowering Shadow was staring down the barrel of his gun, still smoking from the shot that had just been fired.

“I SAID, tell me how to get to Shido,” he demanded, his words cutting the air like a knife.

The Shadow trembled, but its loyalty won out. “The great Shido would never grant an audience to common scum like you!” it spit wrathfully.

Joker scowled. “Fine,” he said calmly, holstering his gun and raising a hand to his face. “Then perish like the rest of them.”

Blue flames burst from his mask and crawled across his skin, growing in intensity until they rose from his body and took on a form of their own. Black wings erupted from within, scattering embers throughout the room, and Arsene’s shimmering form came into focus, carrying the same intimidating presence of his master. With a single motion of his clawed hands the opposing Shadow was engulfed in a blazing darkness; when it faded only scorched tile remained.

“Holy cow,” whispered Oracle, fingers dancing over her holographic interface. “His power level is off the charts! Has he been grinding without us?!”

Joker, meanwhile, gave only a small dissatisfied “hmph,” slipping his hands into his pockets and heading nonchalantly towards the next door.

“Does his behavior not seem a bit…off?” Fox pondered, loud enough only to be heard by the others.

Queen nodded. “Definitely. That was complete overkill for a foe of that caliber; wasting energy like that is not his usual tactic.”

“And with Arsene, too,” remarked Mona. “I thought he’d been outclassed by all of Joker’s newer Personas, since he hasn’t used him lately, but that doesn’t seem to be true at all.”

Crow held his tongue, not wanting to incriminate himself, and tried to analyze what was happening. Boosted strength was in fact one of the results of his spell, though the effect it had on a Persona-user was on a different level than what he had previously witnessed. And could it be that Joker’s current state of single-mindedness prevented him from summoning any of his alternate Personas? Interesting, but really not a train of thought he had the luxury to pursue right now.

Skull didn’t see the point in theorizing when the source of answers was right in front of them. He called out and took a few steps forward, breaking their cover. “Hey leader! What are you doing?!”

Joker turned around, looking a bit surprised to see the whole gang standing there but otherwise unphased. “Oh, just have some business to take care of,” he replied casually.

Queen glared through the slits of her mask. “Yes, Crow informed us of this “business,” but neglected to tell us what it _is_ ,” she said with a slightly accusing tone. “Care to enlighten?”

Crow gulped, unsure of how the thief was going to answer that question, but sure that it wasn’t going to put him in a favorable position.

“He’s just in the way of something I want,” he replied matter-of-factly. “So I’m going to fix that.”

_Thank god he_ _’_ _s keeping it vague_ , thought Crow to himself, releasing the breath he had unknowingly been holding. The rest of the group, however, was not remotely satisfied with that answer.

“And what, you’re going to fix it by killing him?!” Panther yelled in disbelief. “What happened to unanimous decisions?”

“And what desire could call for this sort of recklessness?” added Fox. “Do you not trust us enough to allow us to help you?” He sounded hurt just at the thought.

Joker shook his head. “No, it’s not like that. But this is no job for the Phantom Thieves, there’s no need to dirty your hands. This is personal.” He turned his gaze to Crow and seven other pairs of eyes followed suit.

_Shit shit shit._ He hoped he could appease them with half-truths again.

He turned his eyes downward and chose his words carefully. “Shido…has wronged me in the past. It was selfishness that drove me to share his name with you. I finally came clean to Akira about it, and his reaction was…stronger than expected.” He didn’t dare make eye contact.

The touch of a hand on his shoulder came as a surprise. He raised his head to see Noir looking at him with a kind determination.

“It’s alright, Akechi,” she said, dropping the pretense of code names. “We were all drawn into this for personal reasons. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” She smiled encouragingly, and it sent a pang through Akechi’s heart. She was the last one he deserved sympathy from.

He looked to the others, this time with genuine pain in his eyes. Fox nodded solemnly, seemingly agreeing with her sentiment. Akechi had never attempted to become close with the other members, limiting interactions to casual pleasantries, so he was shocked that they would so easily accept him as one of their own. Noir had a point; in some ways they really weren’t so different. But the differences that did exist were a chasm not easily crossed, and revealing them now was far too much of a risk. Still, betraying their kindness and continuing the lie weighed on him in a way he hadn’t noticed before.

He gave a weak smile. “Thank you, everyone.” Maybe having them on his side was what he needed to get out of this mess. “What do you say then, do we talk some sense into Akira and get out of here?” A task easier said than done, he knew, but perhaps they could accomplish it. He had wanted to put an end to this alone, but at this point he would take all the help he could get.

Queen nodded but frowned. “I still can’t understand what would cause him to act like this in the first place, though. He’s being completely reckless.”

“Yeah,” said Skull, raising his voice. “We’ve all wanted our fair share of revenge, but we stuck together and dealt with it as a team. Why’s he suddenly sticking his neck out for someone like him?!” Akechi winced; he’d always felt the most animosity coming from Ryuji, but hearing it so directly was still unpleasant.

Joker had been paying their conversation little attention up until that point, but that exclamation reached his ears. He whipped around to face Skull and advanced a few steps towards him. “ _‘_ _Someone like him?_ _’”_ he growled, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

To Crow it felt as if the temperature in the room had dropped ten degrees, but Skull didn’t seem to notice the change in atmosphere. “C’mon Joker, I don’t mean it personally, but you know I never really trusted the guy,” he said plainly. “None of us did. Everything he knows is just too convenient.”

“DON’T ACT LIKE YOU KNOW HIM,” Joker screamed, his voice raw and feral. The blue flames consumed him again and Arsene reappeared behind him.

The thieves were taken aback by the unexpected outburst, frozen into place. It was Noir who first dared to step forward. “Wh-what are you thinking, Joker?!” she stammered. “You’re not yourself!”

A booming laughter echoed through the hall; it was Arsene who responded to her accusation. “Foolish girl!” he bellowed, “ _’_ _not himself,_ ’ you say? This is his truest form!” He flared his raven-colored wings, the menacing presence in the room growing only stronger. “Unrestrained by the expectations of society, full strength allowed to run wild!” The flames of his mask danced erratically, and he mirrored the battle stance of his user. “ _Witness our resolve!_ _”_

Persona and thief lunged as one towards the group and Crow moved instinctively, knowing Robin Rood wouldn’t be able to withstand the blow. “Loki!” he cried, and the swirling form materialized in front of Arsene, intercepting his claws with his red-hot blade. They struggled against each other, neither making headway. “Someone, incapacitate him!” Crow ordered, knowing he couldn’t keep up this stalemate for long.

Panther rose to the occasion, summoning Carmen in a fury of flame. “Dorima!” she yelled, and to everyone’s relief Joker’s eyes fluttered shut as he collapsed to his knees. Arsene flickered and faded from view, as did Loki shortly thereafter.

Once the shock of the assault had worn off, all eyes turned to Crow.

“What…the HELL…was that?” demanded Skull between ragged breaths.

“A black mask…” Noir’s voice trailed off as she came to the realization of what that meant. She regarded him with a mixture of sadness and fear, so different than the smile she had gifted him with a few minutes prior.

Crow looked at his hands, now covered by the talons belonging to his alternate identity. Summoning Loki had ruined his chances of getting through this without blowing his cover; what had compelled him to defend the others in that moment? He wasn’t going to be able to lie his way out of this one.

Even if he had wanted to, Queen wouldn’t have given him the chance to prepare any excuses. She marched up and grabbed him by the shirt with surprising strength, bringing them eye-to-eye. “Answers. _Now_ ,” she threatened.

Crow swallowed hard, readying the words he had been hoping not to say. “I…may be responsible for this,” he said, stating the obvious first. Seeing his willingness to talk, Queen released her grip, but the other team members stared daggers at him from all directions, preventing any chance of escape.

“Not just this, but all of the mental shutdown incidents, right?” Oracle pressed.

He nodded, defeated. “Yes, at Shido’s orders.”

Skull stomped forward, getting uncomfortably close. “I knew it! You traitorous piece of shit!”

He backed away a step, putting his hands up in surrender. “It’s not as simple as that! Give me a chance to explain myself. Please!”

Fox stared him down, tail swishing in anger. “Keep it concise.”

Crow closed his eyes, took a deep breath and began. “I detest Shido more than any of you. I offered my services to him as a way to gain his trust, waiting for the right moment to enact my revenge. He’s had his eye on you for a while, you know. He wants you all dead.” They all listened intently but made no comment, so he continued. “That was, as you can guess, my job. But not one I took gladly!” Yes, maybe here was a point he could cling to to save his skin. “I told him I would get their leader out of the way. Make him lose his mind, and the Phantom Thieves would crumble. That’s what I thought, but, well…” He glanced towards the sleeping Joker. “Instead he seems to have developed a certain…fixation on me.” Panther’s eyes went wide, having picked up on the implications, but she didn’t vocalize them.

“And what now?” inquired Queen. “How do you plan to fix this?”

He shook his head. “I wish I knew. I never had to undo it before and I don’t think I can.” He took a moment to breathe again; bearing his heart and his insecurities was difficult. “I told him what I just told you about Shido and he ran off before I could stop him. Maybe if Shido is out of the picture he’ll stop being a danger to himself and others, at least.” He went silent, waiting for a response.

After what seemed like ages, Queen let out a sigh. “If that’s the best idea you have, I guess we have no choice but to try. Do you know how to reach Shido?”

“Unfortunately not,” Crow admitted, “I’ve never ventured this far in, either.”

“Juuuust a moment…!” Oracle interrupted, raising a finger. “Bingo! Large energy signal off to the side of the central passage. That’s gotta be him.”

“Good work,” said Queen. In Joker’s absence, she naturally fell into the role of leader and began delegating tasks. “Panther, you keep Joker under control. Have Carmen at the ready, don’t let him wake up.”

“You got it,” she answered, and summoned her Persona again. The temptress took Joker’s limp body and pulled it close against her bosom; there were certainly worse ways to be detained, but this would do the trick.

“And Fox, keep an eye on this one,” Queen said, glancing in Crow’s direction. “Don’t let him try anything funny. Once we’ve taken care of this mess we can decide what to do with him.”

“Understood,” replied Fox with a nod. The combination of his icy stare and Queen’s implicit threats were enough of a deterrent on their own, but Crow’s brain added a “ _this is what you deserve_ ” on top for good measure. Out of both excuses and willpower, he followed the other thieves in silence on their way to confront the man who stood at the root of this disaster.

Following Oracle’s directions led them to an imposing golden door without visible handles. “Uhhh, open sesame?” she tried jokingly, but unsurprisingly the door remained shut. “Hrmm…” She took a closer look, running her hands across the engravings, and noticed five thin slots. “It looks like maybe keycards go here…what is this, a VIPs-only club?” she groaned.

“That very well could be the case,” said Crow, daring to speak for the first time. “Shido has a lot of supporters, but only a small close inner circle. Perhaps only they are allowed entrance. Though, if that’s the case…” He stepped forward and rapped against the door with his knuckles. “Goro Akechi here. I request an audience with Shido,” he announced to no one in particular. A moment of stillness, and then the great doors slowly swung open.

He turned and flashed the others a wary smile; it was not reciprocated. Knowing that one of Shido’s closest conspirators was among them was not exactly reassuring, but it was convenient. “I guess he’s good for something, at least,” Oracle mumbled as they headed through the open pathway.

* * *

 

At the other end of this room stood a mirror, Crow thought. Except it couldn’t have been a mirror, for he was the only one reflected in it. Come to think of it, that couldn’t be a reflection at all, the clothes didn’t match. Why, then, was he staring at his own face? He stopped in his tracks, deeply unsettled, as the not-reflection approached.

“Fancy meeting you here,” the doppelgänger said. Its voice had an unnatural inflection. “Shido hasn’t been able to contact you, and suddenly you show up on his doorstep. I don’t suppose your mission was such a great success that you want to report it in person, hm?” He glanced around at the other thieves, who had also stopped behind Crow. “No, I don’t think that’s what’s happening at all.”

“This is…Shido’s cognitive version of Akechi?” Mona wondered aloud, eyes wide.

The cognitive Akechi ignored them, shifting his deadeyed gaze back to his counterpart. “Then I guess you’ve realized you’re a failure, and brought your escaped prey along with you to be slaughtered all at once. How thoughtful of you!” The Shadow smiled, twisting Akechi’s features, and the disturbing sight of seeing his own distorted face make Crow shudder.

“You’re wrong!” the true Akechi snapped. “Shido is the one being disposed of today. I had wanted to wait with this, to make him truly suffer first, but recent events have caused a change of plans.”

The Shadow laughed, a terrible sound like a corrupted audio file. “ _You_ wanted to wait? To make _him_ suffer? As if you were ever the one running the show around here!” He got up close in Akechi’s face, so that he saw the whites of his soulless eyes. “You’re so transparent, it’s painful!” he cackled.

“Wh-what?” Akechi stuttered, full of confusion and anger and fear.

“You just wanted to be useful, didn’t you? Maybe even loved? And a father complex to top it all off!”

Akechi was stunned into paralysis. Shido knew? He knew the whole time that Akechi was his son, and still he…

“It made you far too easy to manipulate!” the cognitive image continued. “And what a valuable pawn you’ve been. But it appears you’ve outlived your usefulness. He had wanted to keep you around until after the election, but if this is how it is-“

“SHUT UP!” Akechi screamed, his voice cracking in rage. He clutched his helmet in his claws and shadows flared around him, calling Loki from his slumber. He raised his blade and sliced at the doppelgängers neck, severing its head and ending its monologue in one fluid motion.

The Shadow’s body collapsed to the ground. Akechi fell to his knees, breathing heavily. The others stood in silence, shaken by what they had just witnessed.

After a time, Akechi’s breathing returned to a normal pace, and Noir spoke cautiously. “Shido…is your father?”

Akechi rose to his feet, wanting to have this conversation with at least a shred of dignity. “…Yes. Though he never acknowledged it. He scorned us and resented us, my mother and I, until the guilt of it all made her take her own life. I was six at the time. I’ve been alone since then.” He spoke the words with surprisingly little emotion; they were only the facts.

The thieves regarded him with a quiet sadness, unsure of what to say. Surprisingly, it was Skull that spoke up first.

“Akechi, I…I’m sorry for what I said earlier.” He looked at his feet and kicked at the ground. “I thought I had it bad with my dad, but damn.” He lifted his head and attempted awkward eye contact.

Akechi returned an equally awkward smile. “Thank you, Ryuji. But you don’t have to apologize. You have every right to hate me for what I did, and knowing my background doesn’t change that.” He looked around to the others. “That goes for all of you. I don’t expect to be forgiven. But if I may make one final request?” He looked to Queen for approval, and she gave him the okay.

“Help me take down Shido,” he said, determination burning in his eyes. “If not for me, then for Akira. It needs to be done, and I don’t know if I can do it alone.”

He had imagined this day many times, but never like this. It was meant to be only him and his father, with the strongest coming out on top, and if he died then so be it. But things were different now. This was bigger than just him, and if sealing victory meant accepting help from others, it was a blow to his pride he was willing to take.

Panther was the first to respond. “I’m in,” she said, stepping over to his side. “For both of you.” She flashed Akechi a playful smile, as if she knew more than she let on.

The others followed suit, until they all stood at Crow’s side. He stared at them in disbelief. What had Joker done to gather so many fools in one place? He laughed a bit to himself, but couldn’t deny the warmth spreading in his chest. With conviction, he stepped towards the final door separating himself from his nemesis.

“Then let’s go, everyone.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was already getting longer than expected, so I decided to cut it off a bit earlier than planned and give you a positive ending for once. Enjoy it while it lasts!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry this chapter took longer than I hoped, I've been lacking either muse or time for the past weeks. But here it is, I hope you're ready to suffer. I know his name is officially Ren now, but I'm sticking with Akira for the rest of the fic.
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who's stuck with me so far, your comments mean the world to me and encourage me to keep going!
> 
> Reminder that you can follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Frostpebble) for occasional fic previews and other Goro Akechi content.

Masayoshi Shido was by far the most difficult opponent the Phantom Thieves had faced up to this point. They were down a man, and every time the politician seemed to be defeated, he returned in a stronger and more disturbing form. But the group held strong, Crow’s laser-focused rage serving as a beacon in place of their usual leader’s determined coolheadedness. With nothing left to hide his power was terrifying, years of Metaverse experience and two powerful Personas at his disposal. Queen coordinated the others to provide backup, buffing and healing as the battle dredged on. They were pushing their limits, but so was Shido, and his attacks became more hectic in his attempt to strike them down.

“Panther, look out!” Fox yelled, but his warning came too late, as an unexpected blast hit her head-on and knocked her to the ground. Mona rushed immediately to her side but she was out cold; it was going to take a moment for her to recover even with his healing spells.

Queen turned to Crow, her eyes burning. “We have to end this soon, before someone gets hurt.” He nodded briskly, having no qualms with this. Skull fired off another Tarukaja and Crow embraced the rush it gave him, calling forth his remaining energy to prepare one last devastating blow. Loki spiraled out of the shadows and plunged his sword into the villain’s chest, pinning him to the ground as Crow approached, head held high and each footstep echoing with conviction. This is what he had prepared for all these years.

Akechi’s rage had cooled into pure contempt, and he hoped his father felt every fragment of it as he towered over his defeated body. His Shadow had returned to the form it took in real life, a disgusting coward of a man who could only succeed at the expense of others. Akechi stayed silent as he readied his gun, his eyes locked onto Shido’s. They grew wide with fear, then contracted slightly with what could even be seen as regret. Akechi doubted its sincerity, but he was going to engrave this vision into his memory, a prize that would bring him the solace he had so long been seeking.

Shido rose with difficulty to a sitting position; all the while Akechi’s gun remained trained on his forehead. Was he really going to attempt to say something for himself? Akechi’s stone cold gaze was unwavering, and Shido cast his eyes aside. “Akechi, I…,” He fumbled for words and the other allowed him. “My son…”

“Save it,” Akechi interrupted. “You were never a father to me, and you want to start with that now? In the hopes of saving your own skin? You’re despicable.” His words dripped with emotion he had waited so long to set free. But he didn’t pull the trigger.

_There are fates worse than death._ The old thought flittered through his mind, and he pondered it. Was it too late to change his heart? Not for the sake of giving him a second chance, but for the sake of ensuring he suffered for every last one of his remaining days. Death was too light a sentence. He lowered his weapon and regarded the sad excuse for a man.

A shot rang out. Masayoshi Shido’s eyes grew wide and his breathing came to a halt. He collapsed backwards onto the ground, blood poring from wounds on each side of his head.

Akechi’s head turned slowly towards the source of the bullet. There stood Joker, having staggered to his feet after being released from Carmen’s grip. She must have vanished when Panther was knocked out, and in the tense atmosphere all eyes had been on Akechi’s confrontation.

He turned to meet Akechi’s gaze. “Finally got what he deserved, the sick bastard,” he said with finality.

Akechi’s blood boiled. This had been HIS moment, what HE had been working towards for YEARS and this _THIEF_ —

He rushed Joker and grabbed him by the collar with such force that their heads nearly collided. “ _You had no place in this!_ _”_ he screeched, and Joker’s expression fell, clearly not prepared for this sort of reaction. Akechi stared him down for another few seconds but he offered no further response. He released his grip and turned back to watch Shido’s Shadow slowly vanish, filled with a tempest of conflicting emotions. The other Thieves stood quietly, weary and not wanting to involve themselves in such a personal conflict.

Suddenly, the room shook. Bits of dust and stone fell from the ceiling. The group exchanged concerned looks as Oracle shrieked “The Palace is collapsing!”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth and the entire room lunged sideways, as if the boat had been hit by a massive wave. They struggled to remain on their feet as the next wave threw them in the opposite direction and bits of the building began to fall to the ground, blocking the door they had come through. From somewhere on the ship came a deep _crack_ and the floor below them lurched downward. Water began seeping in from the door and pooled around their feet at an alarming rate.

“We’re sinking!” cried Noir, and every Thief scanned the room in a panic for a possible way out. Skull began clearing rocks away from the door, but that only made the water flow faster.

As the water rose so did Akechi’s heart rate. How did the group usually get out of these situations?! They couldn’t have come so far only to be killed in such a stupid manner.

He tried to keep a level head, but there was such a ringing in his ears. Louder and louder it grew, and his vision blurred into spots of color, until it seemed that the light itself was screaming. He clutched his head, vaguely noticing that the others were similarly affected. With a flash his vision went white and then black, as he collapsed into the surging waters.

* * *

 

After an indeterminate time Akechi began to gradually regain consciousness. The ringing had faded and was replaced by a distant melody that seemed to resonate from everywhere at once rather than having a specific source. He opened his eyes and found he was in an unfamiliar room, its furnishings a vibrant shade of blue, more like ultraviolet, unnatural to the human eye. He slowly rose to his feet, still disoriented, and examined his surroundings: to his side, Joker, also just opening his eyes to glance around. Looking further, a wall of prison cells, inhabited by the remaining unconscious Phantom Thieves and guarded by...little girls dressed as prison wardens? And across the room from him a man with an impossibly long nose, seated at a desk with a wicked smile across his face.

He…couldn’t make sense of this. Closing his eyes again, he tried to remember where he had been and how he could possibly have gotten to wherever “here” was. Shido, the ship, collapsing palace and rising water…how did he make it out of that alive? WAS he alive? This didn’t look like any heaven or hell he was familiar with.

The figure at the desk spoke, his deep voice interrupting Akechi’s thoughts. “Ah, it seems both of our guests of honor are awake?” His bulbous eyes darted back and forth between Joker and Akechi, and the latter shuddered whenever their gazes met, feeling as if someone was looking straight into his heart. Joker seemed unbothered by the strange man, but rather preoccupied looking up and down his body, as if he’d never seen his Thief attire before. He then turned to the side, noticing Akechi for the first time, and a look of surprise crossed his face. “Are you here for rehabilitation, too?” he asked.

Akechi stared at him blankly, unable to attach any particular meaning to the words coming out of his mouth. Was he the only one around here with no goddamn idea what was happening?

The long-nosed man continued speaking, only adding to his questions. “No, the only one given that opportunity was you, though at this point it’s also out of the question. You’re here today as players. Players who really can’t seem to stick to the rules.”

Now Joker seemed equally lost, so Akechi took the opportunity to speak. “What is this about? Players in what? Who are you? Why are we here?” His tone grew increasingly exasperated as questions filled his mind faster than they could come out of his mouth.

The man chuckled, folding his hands together atop the table. “You needn’t concern yourself with the details. It was…a game of wills, shall we say. A thought experiment to see what you humans are truly capable of, with the two of you at the center.” Akechi and Joker looked at each other in unison before returning their attention to the gamemaster.

“Which would prove stronger, the heart of a martyr who believes in the world’s salvation?” Joker’s eyes widened. “Or a disillusioned heart, bent only on destruction?” Akechi felt a pang in his chest. “The fact that you both stand before me now is far more interesting of an outcome than I could have anticipated.”

“Unfortunately, your little act of cooperation, fascinating as it may be, has put me into quite the bind,” he continued. “Masayoshi Shido was a valuable conspirator, and you’ve managed to remove him from the picture in a rather untimely manner. It seems I underestimated that wildcard power I bestowed upon you both.”

Akechi’s mind was racing. This was a lot to take in. He started small while trying to piece the bigger picture together. “Wildcard power?” he asked simply.

The strange man nodded; he seemed willing to talk at least. “The power to use multiple Personas. Did you not wonder why only you had this ability? It was a gift from me, to bring out your full potential. Though I never believed that potential was enough to actually defeat a man like Shido.”

The pieces were falling into place. “You gave me this power, expecting me to go after Shido, but confident I wouldn’t succeed?” Akechi accused him. “What was the POINT then? Just to watch me suffer?!” He tried to keep his voice in check, clenching his fists.

The man waved his spindly hand dismissively. “Don’t be so self-important. I have nothing against you in particular. What point is there in a game but entertainment?” He gave a too-wide smile and turned to Joker. “The Phantom Thieves have given the whole world quite the show, hm? You served as a wonderful catalyst.” Joker’s brow was furrowed, quietly taking in everything he was told.

Akechi, on the other hand, was livid. Knowing that everything was predetermined- his awakening, his revenge, even his connection to Akira- was not something he was going to accept so easily. “Who do you think you are, toying with peoples’ lives like your playthings?!” he shouted.

“A god, obviously.” The answer was so absurd yet presented so matter-of-factly. “Yaldabaoth, to be precise. So I would watch your tongue. You should be grateful I saved you from that ship at all.”

Finally, Joker spoke again. “Why DID you save us then, if we ruined your plans so badly? Why not leave us to die and get us out of your way?”

“Because I have a proposal.” He intertwined his fingers and regarded them both with eyebrows raised. “You’ve both shown such surprising potential, it would be a waste to simply dispose of you. I thought it only fair to present the opportunity to join me.” He spread his arms wide in an exaggerated welcoming gesture.

Akechi’s hair stood on end and every fiber of his being screamed NO. As if he would so easily offer himself up to someone who was clearly using him. It was not happening, never again. He searched for the right words to express his disgust—

“What are the terms?” Joker asked calmly. “What do we have to gain?”

Akechi turned to him, awestruck. “Don’t tell me you’re seriously considering this?!” he exclaimed in disbelief. The concern in his voice struck Joker hard; he hung his head in silence for a moment before raising his eyes to meet Akechi’s. “We have to know our options,” he stated.

The apparent god chuckled. “A wise decision. I think you’ll find that some options are clearly superior to others.” He turned in his chair so he was addressing Joker directly. “What do you have to gain, you ask? Quite simply: your life and freedom. It’s not as if I could exactly let you walk away from here without consequence after turning me down.”

Joker gulped. Akechi clenched his fists tighter; this wasn’t so much a deal as it was blackmail.

“You and your little gang have caused me enough trouble already.” He glanced at the other Thieves, who were beginning to stir in their cells. “Should you refuse, I’m afraid you won’t be leaving this place again. As you can see, this option offers you nothing—”

“Except our dignity,” Akechi spat, and it was Joker’s turn to look at him in shock. “I’d rather die than continue to be your tool.” They were heavy words, and he didn’t say them for show.

“Goodness, you are a feisty one, aren’t you?” the long-nosed man teased as Akechi scowled. “But I was conversing with this young man here, if you please.” He turned his attention back to Joker, curious of his response.

Akechi couldn’t read the expression behind Joker’s mask, and his tempered voice remained unrevealing as usual. “I don’t really care what happens to me,” he said simply, “but what about my friends?” He looked to the other thieves, confined in the cells which were once his.

“They’re free to go, as long as I can assure they’re no longer a threat,” the god answered. “It would be a simple matter to erase their memories of ever having been Phantom Thieves. They would lead safe and happy lives.”

“Don’t do it, Leader!”

The voice came from Skull, hands gripping the bars of his cell, voice cracking in desperation.

“Quiet, inmate!” barked one of the girls, slamming her baton into the bars, missing his fingers by inches. He recoiled back in shock and fear.

Joker watched the scene with pain in his eyes, and shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry. I can’t leave you all here like this. It’s my fault you’re caught up in this at all.”

“Joker…” Panther said weakly, tears building in the corners of her eyes. She wanted to argue, but knew there wasn’t a point. He smiled reassuringly in her direction.

Finally, he turned to Akechi and words were not necessary. _Stay with me,_ his eyes pleaded. The red glow around his irises from Loki’s spell had faded; even Joker’s usual confidence was absent. They were simply the soft gray eyes of Akira Kurusu, the eyes that looked at him in a way no others did. The eyes he found it impossible to lie to.

Akechi’s hands trembled. His chest clenched, and he felt wetness at the corners of his eyes. But he couldn’t do this. Couldn’t simply submit to the being that had conspired with his father, that had used his very life for sport. Not even at the cost of his freedom. Not even for him…

He took a deep breath and looked down, unable to bear that gaze any longer. “I’m sorry, Akira.”

A moment of silence. There was no anger between them, only grim understanding.

Seconds or years later, Akira addressed the god again. “Promise to release Goro as well.”

Yaldabaoth sighed. “Fine. You’re really in no position to make demands, but I’m in no mood to argue. All connections to Shido and his crimes can be severed. He’s a free man.”

Akechi’s heart sank. Why did those words fill him with despair? He had been fully prepared to end everything here, to give up his life. But returning to it…

He looked to Akira wide-eyed, and he only smiled sincerely in return. “Hear that? You’re free.”

Akechi was shaking. He didn’t want this.

“Take care, Goro.”

Their eyes lingered on each other for an eternity before Akira broke away and walked with conviction towards Yaldabaoth’s outstretched hand.

And the closer they got the further Akechi fell, in every direction at once, the room warping and blurring away from him. He saw them grasp hands; the deal was done. The image remained in his mind even as the rest of his surroundings faded to black, his consciousness slipping away from him once again.

* * *

 

Akechi awoke on the lawn of the Diet building, alone. It was drizzling and the sky glowed red on the horizon; was it evening already? He sat up slowly. His head hurt.

Suddenly these minor observations were drowned out by recollections of the past hours flowing into him all at once. Had all of that really happened?

He looked around, nothing here seemed out of the ordinary. Whatever state Shido was in, it apparently hadn’t been made public. Now, for the more pressing question…

His fingers trembled as he scrolled through the admittedly short contact list of his cell phone.

_Akira Kurusu_. The name stared up at him and he hesitantly pressed the call button. The dial tone sounded twice and then ceased. “ _We_ _’_ _re sorry, the number you_ _’_ _ve called is currently unavailable. If you_ _’_ _d like to leave a message-_ _”_

He sighed and hung up. That would have been too easy. He scrolled through the remaining names…right, what had become of the other Phantom Thieves? Why had he woken up here alone?

He landed on Ann’s number and decided to give it a shot. His breath caught in his throat as the other line rung. Someone picked up!

“Hi, Ann Takamaki here.” She sounded slightly annoyed. “May I ask who’s calling?”

“Takamaki! Thank god you’re okay. It’s Goro Akechi, I just—”

“Who?” The confusion was apparent in her voice. “Look, I don’t know how you got my private number, but I’m in the middle of a shoot. Leave a message on my business number if it’s so important, mmkay? Seeya!” She hung up before he could get another word in.

Akechi stared at his phone, baffled. That had definitely been Ann. But why did she act like nothing had happened? Why didn’t she know who he was? A pang of fear shot through his chest. Was it Yaldabaoth? Did he truly have the power to make them forget their past lives? Was he himself an element to be erased?

This was too much to take in, at least while sitting in the grass and growing increasingly damp. He would head somewhere where he could think…somewhere he could see Akira himself, if he were lucky. And with that he found himself on a train headed to Yongen-Jaya for the second time that day.

* * *

 

The bells on the door chimed their familiar greeting as Akechi entered and took his usual place at the counter. “Welcome,” Sojiro called, not looking up from the stove where he was occupied by a fresh pot of curry. “What can I get for you?”

“The usual,” Akechi replied absentmindedly.

Now Sojiro turned around and gave him a quizzical look. “We don’t get a lot of customers around here, especially not your age. I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I served you before.” He looked Akechi up and down again and shrugged. “Then again, I guess my memory’s not exactly what it used to be, either. Can you be a little more specific for me?”

Akechi’s heart dropped. Him, too? But he put on his best pleasant-boy smile and laughed softly. “Oh, pardon me, perhaps I’ve gotten a little mixed up. Your best house blend please, no milk or sugar.”

Sojiro nodded. “Coming right up.”

Akechi decided to use the situation to pry a little deeper. He had to know how extensive the memory alterations were.

“Hmm, but I could’ve sworn I’ve been here before…” He made a show of looking around at the décor. “Wasn’t there another barista working here? Black hair, glasses, about my age?”

Sojiro shook his head definitively. “Nope. Does it look like I can afford a part-timer in here?” He nodded to the remaining seats, empty save for Akechi. “You’re definitely the one mixed up here, kiddo. Hope you enjoy the coffee all the same.” He set the cup down in front of Akechi, a smile peeking at the corners of his mouth.

He laughed shyly, trying to seem normal. “Thank you, I’m sure I will. Sorry for the confusion.”

He took a sip. Bitter, compared to how Akira makes it. He reached for the sugar and reluctantly added a dash, stirring longer than necessary while pondering what exactly was happening. He would kill to know if Akira’s belongings still stood in the attic like they had that morning, or if the malevolent god’s manipulation extended to physical objects as well. But an excuse to go up there escaped him completely.

The café was quiet aside from the sound of the television in the background, so when the program changed it caught Akechi’s attention. “Now, continuing our coverage of prime minister candidate Masayoshi Shido…”

His blood ran cold at the sound of the name and he turned his full attention to the television set. Had something happened to him? You never knew with Shadow killings, the effects on the real world could be instant or take days to show up.

But there he was, approaching the microphone and waving to the crowd. Was it old footage? No, it said LIVE in the corner. Was it too much to hope that he would make a confession?

As soon as Shido opened his mouth he knew just how foolish that thought had been. The exact speech he fed to the crowd escaped him because Akechi was too focused on the voice- it was Yaldabaoth, he was certain. Whether he was controlling Shido’s actual body or just assuming his form he couldn’t tell, but the god was clearly wasting no time in getting back to his plans, whatever they were.

The camera changed angles and Akechi caught a better glimpse of the men standing behind Shido, presumably his closest supporters, his upper echelon. One in particular stood out to him: dressed in a sharp white suit, black curls slicked back— god, it was Akira, wasn’t it? A sick distortion of Akira, pressed into a mold he didn’t fit. He stood at Shido’s side like some kind of watchdog, eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of dissension.

The sight of it made him want to vomit. This was wrong. Under the counter Akechi dug his fingernails into his thighs. That self-sacrificing idiot had no idea what he had gotten himself into, and for what? For the “safety” of his friends in a country on the brink of being overrun by corruption? For Akechi’s “freedom” in a world that had forgotten his existence?

His entire life had been a sick joke and this was just the pinnacle. None of his achievements were his own; even his grandiose revenge plot was orchestrated by a higher power and its conclusion snatched from right between his fingertips. Where did that leave him now?

He forced his eyes to return to the television screen. The mindless masses were drawn to Shido like moths to a flame, unaware they were only accelerating their own ruin. He was the only one who knew something sinister was looming on the horizon. The only one who could possibly do anything about it.

He looked out the window, to the dreary world where nothing awaited him except rainy backstreets and an empty apartment.

He wasn’t sure he should bother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Denying Akechi the chance to get royally pissed at Yaldabaoth is among the game's greatest sins, there's so much potential in that confrontation. So time to take matters into my own hands!
> 
> I've always been fascinated by the "bad" end option where you can make the choice to side with Yaldabaoth, so obviously I took the chance to explore it here, though the context changes the implications on Akira's character a bit. Either way, I think it's important not to forget that side of him and what he's capable of under the right circumstances.
> 
> For the record, I'm also completely enamored with the idea of both of them taking his bait and becoming the Metaverse's #1 power couple, but that's not the story to be told here!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, we're back! I'm so sorry for the long wait, and incredibly thankful for anyone who's here anyway. You know how it is, life happens, and time and inspiration never strike at the same time. 
> 
> I think this was the hardest chapter to write so far and I have to say, I almost feel bad for how depressing it is. Almost. But I hope you like it! Unbeta'd, so please do point out any mistakes so I can fix them.
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Frostpebble) for more Goro content~

Boredom had never been kind to Goro Akechi.

It wasn’t so much the lack of human contact wearing him down- that he was accustomed to. At some point, long ago, he had experienced the warmth of his mother’s love, but those memories were so distant they could no longer be recalled; overwritten with images of her tear-stained face at the kitchen table, surrounded by one too many empty bottles, lamenting that her life had been ruined ever since Goro was brought into it. She never knew that the words had reached his ears, but they had seeped into his young heart, and the distance between them had already grown considerably even before she was removed from his life completely. The foster homes that had been his “family” after that were nothing but a blur; they ranged from shallow smiles that betrayed no love but pity, to small dirty rooms that served as his only sanctuary from a torrent of verbal abuse.

Akechi was a burden to others and others were only a source of pain for him; he had learned this lesson at a young age and chose to keep to himself. And so as a child he sought escape from his harsh reality in the pages of the Phoenix Ranger Featherman comics, inspired by their heroic deeds and ability to change the world for the better. If only he possessed such a power, he had dreamed, filling his days with colorful fantasies.

But as he grew and came to witness yet more facets of corruption in society around him Akechi’s heart became calloused, the optimistic naivety of the heroes he once admired now filing him only with disgust. When his own awakening finally came and Akechi saw the black costume that accompanied his new powers the bittersweet truth was painfully clear- someone filled with so much hate as him was fit only to play the role of the villain. Embracing this mask fueled his conviction, and from that moment on his thoughts were solely of revenge and justice. They were the only company he needed.

Now even they had been stripped from him, snatched from right before his eyes by a petty thief with no idea of the value of what he was stealing. “I did it for you,” he would say, were he here, and the sentiment twisted his heart in conflicting directions. No one had every done anything for him in his life. But if he REALLY wanted to help, he would have let Akechi finish his business himself! But how could he have known better when Akechi had never opened up to him? Their relationship was founded on lies; why would he want to do anything for him at all for that matter? It was surely only the result of his asinine savior complex, coupled with the instability Akechi himself had inflicted…that was the only plausible explanation. It was all his own fault in the end.

These were the thoughts that danced through his head in the hours, days, weeks- Akechi couldn’t tell anymore- that had passed since returning to a world where he didn’t exist. He had never felt connected to the society around him, but as he examined each tie only to find that it was cut, he could feel the pieces of his patchwork identity unravel.

_“_ _I’m sorry, did I hear your name correctly? There’s definitely no Goro Akechi enrolled here._ _”_

_“_ _Do you think it’s funny, impersonating a cop? I don’t know what you’re doing here or where you got that badge, but forgery is a criminal offense, and I suggest you leave before I take a closer look at it._ _”_

_“_ _The Detective Prince? Naoto Shirogane, you mean? She was popular a few years ago but I haven’t seen her in the news lately…why do you ask?_ _”_

Akechi didn’t know anymore which face to put on in the morning. He looked into the mirror and a stranger looked back- blank expression, tired eyes, not someone he wanted to get to know. Unfortunately he was left with no other choice. All of his usual distractions had been taken from him. No school, no work, no revenge. No fans and reporters to please with fake hobbies. No family, no friends. No Akira.

Boredom had never been kind to Goro Akechi because he knew that with all masks removed he was simply hollow underneath, and without a goal to direct his thoughts towards the emptiness would seep out, gnawing at the edges of his sanity. He had always pushed it back down, covered it up, exiled it to regions beyond his consciousness. Filling it was too dangerous, lest his new core be ripped away and leave an even bigger hole in its place.

But now he was being forced to face himself and either plug the gap or drown in the nothingness that poured out. He grasped for something to cling to. Something to do. Someone to be.

The world needed a savior, but he wasn’t prepared to take up the mantel of “hero.” That dream had been abandoned long ago. He needed to start smaller…he searched through the sea of negativity for and anchor to grab a hold of.

Well, he was a detective, wasn’t he? He may have lost his position, which was gained through underhanded means to begin with, but his skills were genuine. Time to do something with them.

The other members of the Phantom Thieves had all forgotten about Akechi, but perhaps it was better that way. Yaldabaoth had promised they would live happy lives, and admittedly he couldn’t see himself fitting into that picture. But he could at least make sure the twisted god had held up his end of the bargain. Maybe that knowledge would bring him some solace, at least. That way of thinking had seemed to work for Akira.

Akechi dragged his body from the couch for the first time in what seemed like ages. He retrieved his coat from wherever he had thrown it and adjusted his signature striped tie around his neck. The man in the mirror was starting to look slightly more recognizable. _It's a start,_ he thought, as he ventured out of his apartment and into this brave new world.

* * *

 

The fog slowly lifted from his mind now that Akechi had a new goal. He compiled a mental list of what he knew about the members of the (former) Phantom Thieves- where there were likely to be, what they would normally be doing. Approaching them directly wouldn’t have been particularly risky, but witnessing their lack of recognition face-to-face didn’t exactly sound pleasant. So he would stick to quietly observing, as he had done when first started following the Thieves’ trail.

Anne was easy enough to find; fans were always leaking details of her next photoshoot locations. Akechi blended in to the crowd of fanboys without issue to watch the flashing of cameras and Anne’s bright smile. Once the lenses turned away, though, her expression fell, and she seemed to scurry away as soon as her work was completed.

Ryuji could be found in and around Shujin Academy, as expected. Some mornings he arrived late, bag slung sloppily over his shoulder, and shrugged off the teachers’ scolding. Some afternoons he stood at the edge of the sports field, silently watching his former teammates play and train, but never approached them. He didn’t seem to be involved in any extracurricular activities; if he didn’t go straight home he only stopped to pick up a few groceries.

Makoto was the opposite, her schedule so packed that sightings were scarce. She came to school early, alone, to take care of he duties as class president. She left school in the evening, alone, and immediately headed to cram school to prepare for her entrance exams. Though she walked with her head held high, the bags forming under her eyes were hard to miss.

Yusuke was also somewhat of an enigma. Finding his dorm took some work, and snooping around a private school wasn’t so easy. He didn’t leave his room often outside of classes, usually just to grab a bag full of cup noodles from the convenience store. What was noticeable was the growing pile of discarded canvases building by the dumpster; apparently all of his efforts weren’t bearing acceptable fruit.

Futaba would take the gold medal in difficulty, though- Akechi didn’t manage to catch a single glimpse of her in over a week. Sojiro still returned home every evening with leftover curry, and the glow of a computer screen could be seen from her window well into the night. She was definitely there, but a compelling reason for her to leave her room was not.

Haru would also require some effort; she was already from a prestigious family and security was even higher after the incident with her father. She dutifully attended school along with numerous meetings, presumably about the fate of her family’s company. She was often accompanied by a young man- her fiancé, Akechi assumed. His presence didn’t seem to comfort her, in fact she became even more anxious around him. She didn’t speak up when he touched or kissed her, but Akechi was used to reading body language.

And Morgana? Akechi had seen neither head nor tail of the cat and hadn’t the faintest idea where to start. He still didn’t know what Morgana technically _was_ , let alone what kind of life he would be leading without the Phantom Thieves, if he even belonged in this reality at all. He reluctantly decided to abandon the case as unsolved.

After a week or so of no noticeable changes in behavior, Akechi concluded his investigation. It had been a good distraction from his own internal crisis, but what he had seen did not sit well with him. He pressed his fingers to him temples, contemplating. Were the others safe? There had been no signs that they _weren’t_ ; they were living like normal high schoolers and there had never been a whisper of the Phantom Thieves, from them or anyone else he encountered. Were they happy? That…was harder to pin down. Nothing in their lives was fundamentally wrong, from what he had seen. At least no worse than it had been before they took up a life of crime. And yet…

Akechi sighed and leaned back in his chair. Happy or not, they weren’t really _themselves_ , and that was the problem. Something was missing, that spark that made them stand out, that will of rebellion that caused them to join the Phantom Thieves in the first place. Was it Akira that had inspired them all so deeply? He must not have realized himself the impact he made, otherwise he never would have accepted an agreement that left them in this state.

_Akira_ …Akechi had been trying not to think about him, to avoid feeling the weight that settled in his chest when he did. He DID have a certain effect on people, himself included; he couldn’t deny that anymore. In the past months “I’m just observing my target” had been his mantra, but it started even before he had that excuse. From their first encounter at the TV station he had been drawn to the boy who hid his rebellious thoughts beneath an unassuming exterior; it was a rare instance where his desire to speak to someone further was genuine. Every time their paths had crossed on the Ginza line there was a flutter in his chest as he tried to initiate a conversation, with a thrilling comment about the weather or even an embarrassing “Our meeting here must be fate.”

Ridiculous as the words must have sounded at the time, Akechi was beginning to believe they were the truth. According to that malevolent god the two of them were merely pawns in a game, so he must have set the board in a way that the paths of his pieces would cross. And what about this apparent magnetism between them, was it orchestrated as well? An implanted emotion intended to bring them together, just so they would be close enough to tear each other apart?

It infuriated him, knowing that the single truly good, truly surprising thing in his life might also be fake. And he wanted it desperately not to be. He wondered how it could have been in another life, in a world without Shido, without Yaldabaoth. Or even in this life; if they had met sooner, if he had been honest…

It was too late to change the past. But there was still a future, no matter how bleak it looked. Akechi had always been content to throw his away, but seeing Akira do the same was something he couldn’t stand. Maybe the true Akira was long gone, maybe it was Akechi’s fault, maybe the shadow of Akira that remained really was satisfied with this world. But the Akira he knew would never settle for this, and Akechi decided he owed it to his memory to at least make an attempt. A first and last shot at heroism...maybe it wasn’t impossible to step off the path he had been set on years ago after all.

* * *

 

Tracking down Akira turned out not to be too difficult once Akechi put his mind to it. So easy, in fact, that he must have been subconsciously avoiding him until now. He was present at every one of Shido’s well-publicized press conferences, and from there it was a simple matter of trailing him home. Well, “home” wasn’t the right word for it- his pursuit lead Akechi to a large and lavish hotel in the center of Tokyo. He thought of his own rather modest apartment and was briefly offended that Shido would invest so much into a newcomer, until he remembered who was really calling the shots now. _I guess you could call it a 'godly' treatment,_ he joked to the audience in his head, but they were too tense to offer a chuckle.

He wasn’t ready to confront Akira. Not yet, not here. He still had thoughts to process and plans to make; there were too many unknown factors and rushing in was only asking for trouble. He watched through the glass doors as Akira politely greeted the receptionist and stepped into the elevator, and began plotting his next move.

* * *

 

A few days later, the former Phantom Thief awoke to a note slipped under his door, its black and red stripes a stark contrast to the beige hotel carpet. Curiously he flipped it over and was greeted with an all-too-familiar cacophony of mismatched letters:

_Wayward Fool,_

_How far have you fallen, to lay your hand in with the very power you’ve been so vehemently fighting against? Blinded by your own self-righteousness, you throw away your trickster's mask and take your place in a game you're rigged to lose. Do you think this is what they wanted?_

_This can still be undone. Come to the roof at noon for the truth I've uncovered._

_Signed,_

_The last of the Phantom Thieves_

His eyes darted from one word to another and he dropped the card back to the floor to clutch at his head as a pang ran through it. Who was this from? What did it mean? He didn’t know, so why was his subconscious screaming?

The air around the building crackled with a strange static and the sky grew a deeper shade of red, unnoticed by all save for a cat on the nearby fence who perked up, jolted awake from his slumber.

* * *

 

Akechi rose with the sun to prepare for what could be his final mission. Kurusu should notice the calling card any time now. It wasn’t a necessary step in his plan, not really, there wasn’t a Palace to infiltrate or treasure to steal. But he couldn’t resist adding a dramatic flair when the opportunity presented itself. Looking at it practically, he had no idea what Akira’s current mental state was- did he even remember the Phantom Thieves, let alone Akechi? He hoped the familiar gesture would strike his heart and stir an interest either way.

He casually clicked open the Metaverse app as if checking the weather. “CurRen tlY exPLo r I ng mEm Entos” it sputtered back at him over a glitched-out background, before cutting off briefly and returning to the usual homescreen. That’s what he’d been observing ever since he returned here; it appeared that the lines between reality and the Metaverse were growing thinner by the day. The sun broke over the neighboring building and its rays illuminated the room, but the sky outside still shone with an unnatural pink glow that the light couldn’t dispel.

The detective didn’t know what to expect from today’s confrontation. Best case scenario, Akira was still in his right mind and able to be reasoned with. If news of his friends’ true conditions could make him realize his mistake, he was perfectly positioned on the inside to help launch a counterattack. Worst case scenario…well. Akechi’s eyes drifted to his briefcase, always his companion, its contents prepared to handle exactly that situation. He’d come to terms with this a thousand times already, as much as was possible, at least.

Though if it came to that, he wasn’t sure something so simple would be enough to best the ex-thief. Nothing was certain in this ever-shifting reality. Driven by pure curiosity, he retrieved another weapon from his closet: the plastic laser saber he used for his escapades as Crow, one of very few relics remaining from his childhood. He casually pressed the button on its hilt and much to his surprise the blade briefly flared to life, just as it would in the Metaverse. After a moment the power faded and he held a simple toy once again. Not a very reliable weapon in this strange in-between world, but…somehow he felt safer with it in his grip. He would add it to his arsenal, just in case.

* * *

 

Standing atop the tower that was the hotel, Akechi’s skin grew goosebumps despite the sun bearing down on him, closer than ever. It seemed a good place to meet- a spacious terrace next to a restaurant that wouldn’t open for another few hours. Accessible to the public, secluded but not suspicious, limited opportunity for ambush or escape. The perfect space to exchange words. Or blows.

The sun slowly climbed to its peak and with it Akechi’s heart rate. Would he show up?

Across the terrace echoing footsteps approached and a figure emerged from the door leading to the lower floors. Clad in a pristine white suit, messy curls tamed into something more mature- it would be a lie to say he didn’t look good, but it still wasn’t a sight Akechi was used to.

He closed the space between them with confident strides, stopping at a safe distance and tossing the calling card on to the ground between them. “So, I’m here,” Akira said simply, cutting right to the chase. “What’s this about?”

He sounded distant and arrogant and Akechi already wasn’t having it. “You can read, can’t you?” he struck back. “You’re a miserable fool for taking this deal, and an even bigger one for apparently not regretting it. But I want to have more faith in you.” There was more emotion slipping into his words than he intended. “Do you even remember why you’re here at all?”

Akira turned a step to the side and gazed out over Tokyo in silent contemplation. “So my friends would be safe,” he replied softly, sounding more like his usual self. He turned his gaze back to Akechi. “That includes you. Are you not? Are they not?” The questions sounded genuine.

Akechi sighed heavily. “The whole world is not, Akira. That god’s influence is seeping into the fabric of reality itself. Don’t you feel it?”

Akira gave a halfhearted laugh. “Of course I do. That’s the point. You’ve got this all wrong, once the plan is complete we’ll bring harmony-“

“They’re all miserable, Akira!” Akechi interrupted, Akira’s naivety making him finally lose his temper. “You think this is for the best, but you’re only undoing everything you worked for!”

“And what is it that makes them so miserable?” the other questioned, raising his voice as well. “This world! Conflict, clashing desires- we can end that! There will be peace, for them, for everyone! Isn’t that what we all want? This is the best way.”

Akechi shook his head. “You know I’ve always had a problem with “your ways.” Taking matters into your own hands, brainwashing everyone who causes trouble? Who gave you the right to meddle with peoples’ hearts?” Their eyes were locked, Akechi daring him to give a satisfactory answer to the question that had brought them together in the first place.

The fool accepted the challenge, spreading his arms in a dramatic gesture to the sky. “God,” he smiled devilishly. Like a sign from above confirming his disciple’s faithfulness, his clothes changed- Joker’s usual coat in snow white billowing in the wind, a mask of gold over his eyes. Akechi startled as he suddenly found himself in his Crow getup as well, sans mask.

“You were chosen too Goro, don’t you see?” he continued excitedly. “The world needs us! The two of us, the last of the Phantom Thieves. We can bear the burden of the world’s darkness. The others don’t need to suffer.”

To that Akechi could offer only unrestrained laughter. “Is that what you’re calling this? _Bearing the burden_?” He accentuated each word, driving home his disbelief. “Because to me it looks like reveling in power. What makes you different from the disgusting adults doing the same?!” he accused.

Golden eyes narrowed behind the golden mask and the god’s pawn adopted a more serious tone. “The difference? The difference is that they deserve it.” The words rolled from his lips with contempt, anger long-stewing and never spoken, and a shiver ran down Akechi’s spine. Akira stepped towards him, breaching the unspoken agreement to not get too close. “You said the same yourself about your targets, didn’t you?” He pressed one gloved finger to Akechi’s chest and looked him in the eyes as he made the accusation.

Akechi was quiet for a moment, locked in his gaze. The statement was true, and yet…he couldn’t concede. This all felt wrong, wrong, wrong.

He collected the right words to solidify his position and steadied himself with a deep breath. “But I didn’t _choose_ to play judge, Akira. I only made the best of my circumstances. Even murderers find a way to sleep at night.”

Akira’s hard eyes softened, but it wasn’t the retreat Akechi was hoping for. He swiftly moved his hand to Akechi’s cheek, caressing it gently and catching him by surprise. “Don’t you see?” he said, pleading eyes only partially concealing the fire that burned behind them. “That’s exactly what I mean. They used you, they caused you that pain! And I’ll make sure it never happens again. Not to you, not to anyone.”

Being this close again but hearing these words made Akechi’s heart swell with a thousand conflicting emotions. Regardless of the circumstances, he knew Akira spoke from the depths of his heart; he would follow this conviction until his dying breath.

Akechi grabbed a handful of the Akira’s black locks and pulled him into a hasty but passionate kiss. After a moment that wasn’t nearly long enough he pulled back, tears building in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Akira,” he sobbed with a cracking voice, embracing him with the second hand that had been hiding behind his back. “But this is how your justice ends.”

A gunshot rang through the cloudless sky, and the thief slipped away from Akechi’s grasp for the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "what the fuck! you said this would have a happy end!!!"
> 
> shhhh, patience. Look close, maybe you catch something to ease your fears.


End file.
